The Half-Bloods
by Word To The Wise
Summary: In this world, you're either a Pure-Blood or a Poor-Blood. Percy Jackson and his group (Half-Bloods) rebel against the evil ruler of this world. They steal from the Pure, to give to the Poor. Annabeth Chase, forced to follow her dad to New York after an accident, soon finds herself with new friends, new enemies and a new adventure. But is everything a lie with her? No gods.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: When the world has been taken over by a twisted ruler named Kronos, there are two classes: the very poor-class (Poor-Bloods) or the very rich-class (Pure-Bloods.) Percy Jackson and his group, called the Half-Bloods, decided to rebel against Lord Kronos. They steal from the Pure-Bloods to give to the Poor-Bloods. Like a modern day Robin Hood. Annabeth Chase was forced to follow her crippled dad to New York after an accident. While she's there she discovers new friends, new enemies, and a new adventure with the Half-Bloods. But is everything a lie with her?**

**Disclaimer: I don't on Percy Jackson.**

* * *

Chapter 1

Gunshots were heard, echoing off of the torn New York buildings, as a dark silhouette raced down the abandoned streets; running from men in police cars. The cars' sirens were screaming and pistols were held outside of the shotgun seat. They were trying, but failing, to shoot the man. The man was carrying two sacs in his left hand while the right arm was pumping as he sprinted. Because of the darkness of night, you couldn't see much of his features. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder only to see the cars catching up. Desperately, he took a sharp left into an alley.

The cars skidded and followed him, only to be met with a brick wall. Coppers fumbled out of their vehicles, with guns fully loaded, and searched for the man. But he was nowhere in sight.

A man with a badge pinned to his black uniform and a scar under his left eye, slammed the door to his car. After taking a look around, he growled in frustration and threw his hat onto the stone floor, revealing his sandy blonde hair.

"God blast it!" shouted the man with the scar. "He slipped away again! That weasel!"

"That's the sixth time this month we've lost 'em," called a police officer. "The Lord will have our heads on display!"

"No," grumbled the man with the scar. "He'll have _my _head. It was my responsibility to bring them, dead or alive. I've failed him again."

"It ain't your fault. No one has been able to catch them yet. No one knows where they come from or who they are."

"We know the name one of them; their leader to be exact."

"Oh?"

"His name is Percy Jackson." The man with the scar looked up at the night sky. "Do you hear me? We'll find you, Percy Jackson! We'll find you where you disappear to and we'll kill every last one of you! You hear me?"

Above the alley, leaning over the edge of the roof, was the same man the policemen had been chasing—Percy Jackson. He chuckled and hurled the bags over his shoulder. "I highly doubt it." With those words, he turned around and jumped to the next building's roof, as graceful and silent as a gazelle.

About thirty minutes later, he arrived at a small beach. The tide was just coming in and the full moon was right above him, reflecting onto the sea. The gentle waves left a trail of wet sand as it pulled back. The ocean breeze filled his nostrils and calmed his thoughts. With a content sigh he walked over to a cabin on the shore.

It didn't look much like a cabin, really. More like a regular one-story house. The door was in the very middle with three small windows on each side of it. There were three solid steps that led up to the door and a chimney rested on the roof, with puffs of smokes floating out of it. The forest lay just inches behind the cabin, swaying in the breeze.

Now that the man was in moonlight, you could see his features clearly. He was not much older than seventeen. His windswept black hair was in a natural mess and his eyes were an unusual sea-green color. They resembled much of the ocean. Restless, rebellious and moody. And free; as if no one in the world controlled him.

The man smiled. "Home, sweet home." He opened the door slowly and tip-toed in. The only light was emanating from a small candle. Three brown couches were sitting opposite of each other, with their backs facing the left, right and back walls. Behind the wall on the left were the boys' bunks and behind the right wall were the girls' bunks. Between the couches was a glossy oak coffee table. Past the couches was an island that had a sink and discarded silverware and dishes left on it. And past that were the kitchen appliances: the fridge, the microwave, oven and some counter space. Yeah, this was definitely more than a regular cabin.

He gave a big sigh, plopped onto the couch on the left and was out like a light.

* * *

Someone was shaking his shoulder, interrupting his dreamless sleep.

"What?" he croaked, pulling the couch pillow over his head.

"At least we know he's alive," someone muttered sleepily.

"Percy," said a feminine voice. "Don't make me get the bucket."

Percy was instantly alert as he sat up hastily. "No, not again!"

The group surrounding him laughed. There were a total of fifteen teenagers surrounding him. Some might find this sight strange, but Percy found it familiar. "What is it?"

A girl with spiky black hair and electric blue eyes shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, we just wanted to see if you came back in one piece."

Percy pouted. "You're doubt in my skills hurt, Thalia."

"Don't mind her, she was actually worried for you," said Piper, a girl with choppy brown hair and kaleidoscope eyes.

"Yeah, she was totally worried when she threatened to use the _bucket_," a Latino looking boy with an impish grin, dark eyes and curly black hair shuddered.

Percy chuckled. "Is breakfast ready? We need to make another delivery today."  
Thalia's younger brother, Jason, a boy with blonde hair and the same electric blue eyes answered. "Katie has it started already."

Percy stood up and stretched, wincing when he heard the bones pop. The group scattered. Half sat on the couches, and the other half walked toward the kitchen to either sit down at the island or help cook. Percy walked into the boys' room to get dressed.

The boys', room consisted of hardwood floors and walls, like the living room and kitchen did. There were six bunks around the whole room, with a dresser placed next to each. All the beds' sheets were tossed and wrinkled; a sign that it took probably forever for the rest to get up. Percy got dressed sluggishly and trudged back outside. Last night had really taken the energy out of him. It was worth it though.

The comforting smell of pancakes drifted around the cabin.

Outside of the room, he saw a very common sight.

Travis and Connor Stoll were helping Katie cook in the kitchen—if you could call spraying whipped cream everywhere, helping. Katie was of course yelling at them to 'knock it off' and whacking them with a spoon.

Travis and Connor Stoll were the biggest trouble-makers of the group. Percy had to be careful around them because they could somehow just magically end up his wallet in their hands. Anyone would think the brothers were twins, but that wasn't true. Travis was older by a year and a little taller. They were both tall and skinny, with brown hair that hung in their eyes. They each had idiotic, derisive smiles, upturned eyebrows and eyes filled with mischievous mirth. It was extremely hard to tell who was who today, because they were both wearing the same outfit—baggy, green shirts, untucked over shorts.

Katie Gardner was scowling at them as she flipped the pancakes. The Stolls and she have had a very bumpy relationship ever since the brothers hot glued chocolate bunnies to her bunk. Katie acted like the mother of the group. She was always the one to cook the meals and clean, but she never complained about it. Sometimes she would make the others do chores and get help with cleaning, but she actually likes doing it herself. She had green eyes and auburn hair. Today, she dressed casually in a big white sweatshirt and faded jeans.

Three people were sitting at the island: Leo, Piper and Jason.

Leo Valdez was passed out and drooling on the countertop. His curly black hair stood up, telling Percy that Jason or one of the others literally had to drag him out of bed. When he was awake, he had an impish grin that was always plastered on his face and acted much like the Stolls. He had pointy ears, making him look even more like a Latino elf. He was wearing his usual grease and oil covered cloths that had gotten stained from him blacksmithing. His fingers were noticeably twitching every now and then. Even in his sleep, the kid was still hyperactive.

The girl next to him with uneven, chocolate brown hair that had small braids hanging at the sides was Piper McLean. She had some noticeable Native American features about her and kaleidoscope eyes. Piper was probably one of the nicest people Percy has ever met; it was just in her blood. And she was very pretty. She always tried her best not to bring attention to herself, you could tell by how she dressed. She wore faded jeans like Katie, with a fleece snowboarding jacket and hiking books. Whenever she spoke, it was like you were being hypnotized. At the moment, she was chatting quietly with her boyfriend, Jason.

Jason Grace, the boy from earlier, had blond hair and electric blue eyes. With his scruffy t-shirt and jeans, he looked like a regular, laid-back guy with no problems in the world. But don't let his appearance fool you; he is actually a very great leader who was always on top of things and responsible. That is one of the reasons why Percy picked him as his second-in-command. Well, that and the fact that he was Percy's cousin.

Sitting on one of the couches was Nico di Angelo, Percy's youngest cousin. The fourteen year old, olive-skinned boy was staring off into space. Nico's silky hair was as untidy as always and he was wearing his usual aviator's jacket. Percy wondered if the kid ever took that jacket off. A skull ring was wrapped around his right index finger. His cousin was silent and very anti-social, ever since his sister, Bianca, died, but Percy still loved him as much as a cousin could. Out of all of his cousins, he'd known Nico and Thalia the longest.

Next to Nico sat Hazel Levesque. She was a dark-skinned girl with her curly dark hair pulled up into a messy bun. She was the same age as Nico. Her cloths were old fashioned and her gold eyes made her look a little intimidating. She looked uncomfortable as she fiddled with something in her pocket. Percy, guessing what it was, smiled comfortingly at her, to which she replied with a shy wave. When she looked away, Percy frowned in concern at her. Hazel had such a sad past, Percy just felt guilty even though he had nothing to do with it. Come to think of it, they all had bead pasts…

And sitting next to her was Reyna. Reyna was messing with the tip of her braided dark hair. Her eyebrows were scrunched together like she was deep in though. And she probably was. She was a full warrior inside and out, and was probably thinking about battle plans. Percy sighed. That girl really needed a break; she worked _way _too hard. She needed a vacation or something. She was strict but careful and cautious at the same time. But over time, Percy noticed that she has a soft spot for children. He always wondered why, but he guessed everyone had their limits.

Leaning on the first couch's arm, sketching on a notepad, was a frizzy red haired, green eyed sixteen year old girl known as Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Her brightly colored cloths were splattered in globs of paint. She was quite the artist, but she never really cared if she missed the canvas. She winked at him teasingly then continued her sketching. Percy smiled; she was one of strangest friends. A bright green bandana was wrapped her forehead in a rebellious manner. Rebellious because her snobby parents just hated bandanas and she wanted to do everything in her power to do what they disliked.

On the second couch sat a sturdy, Chinese looking teen with a baby face. That was Frank Zhang. He yawned greatly in a way that reminded Percy of a teddy bear. Frank was a clumsy, nice and shy guy with the worst luck. He was nice to everyone, except for Leo. For some reason, the two of them just never got along. No matter how hard Frank tried, he just couldn't like Leo. They were pretty different in a lot of ways.

Besides Frank was Will Solace. His blond hair stood up at weird angles as he ran his hand through it. Will was a great friend and an even better healer. He was practically as good as a brain surgeon. And his smile was probably as radiant as the sun itself. Percy never understood how the kid kept his teeth so white, but he never really remembered to ask. He probably will ask later. Will smiled and waved indolently. Everyone seemed to be tired today.

Three people sat on the third couch: Grover, Chris and Clarisse.

Grover Underwood was polishing his reed pipes intently and his tongue poked out between his lips in concentration. Percy smiled. He was one of Percy's very first friends. He had curly brown hair inside a red Rasta cap and beady goat-like eyes. Next to him lay his crutch. Yeah, he was a cripple, but that doesn't mean he was useless. He was actually pretty quick on his feet and very useful in many ways.

Clarisse La Rue and Chris Rodriguez sat side by side, laughing. Those two were the strangest couple to Percy. Chris had his buff arm around Clarisse's broad shoulders. They both had brown hair and eyes, but Clarisse's were so dark, they were almost red. They were alike in so many ways, and different in so little ways. The both of them were aggressive, strong, and competitive. One could agree that Chris was a lot more sensitive and nicer than Clarisse. But that's what made them compatible. Chris was always there to calm her down and keep her at ease. Sure, it didn't work sometimes, but it was still impressive on Chris's part.

Finally, there was Thalia Grace, who was actually sitting on the small coffee table, with her legs crossed. Thalia had spiky black hair and eyes like her brother. A bow was slung over her shoulder and her black, punk-looking clothes really stood out with her sort of pale skin. A splash of freckles crossed her face. There really weren't many words to describe her. But to put it short, she was an adventurous, rebellious and a great cousin. Percy knew her practically all his life. She was older than him by one year. She was eighteen while Percy was seventeen.

So, if the relative's ages went in order it would go like this: Thalia, Percy, Jason, and even though she's not with them anymore, Bianca, Nico and then…

Percy looked around the room, searching for his younger brother, Tyson. Tyson was twelve years old. The kid was the youngest of all of them. He had brown hair and warm calf-brown eyes and was absolutely adorable. He didn't speak much and was blind in one eye, but was awfully cheerful when he actually talked. Percy loved his brother so much and vowed to protect him. What really warmed Percy's heart was the fact that everyone in the group treated him as if he were their little brother, too. It was good to know that Percy wasn't raising the kid alone.

"Where's Tyson?" Percy asked to no one in particular.

"I think he's still in bed, Perce," Nico yawned.

Percy nodded and stepped back inside of the boys' room. He wandered to the bunk he shared with Tyson. Percy probably didn't see the boy because of the fact that Tyson slept on the top bunk, which was kind of his sight range. He blamed Leo for making the bunks so tall. Although, it was great that he didn't have to hit his head on the top bunk anymore.

Percy held onto the bunk's railing and stepped on his mattress, so his head was peeking over barely.

Tyson was sleeping soundly. His hair was tousled and a line of drool was sliding down his cheek. And finally, there was a black Great Dane lying beside him. That was Mrs. O'Leary. And Percy wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, how she got her butt up there in the first place. And how the bed didn't collapse under the weight was a bigger question.

Mrs. O'Leary raised a droopy eye, then she lifted her big head licked Tyson's face all over, covering him in slobber.

Tyson laughed and turned his head toward Percy with only his left eye open. His left eye was the one that still worked. "Tell her to stop."

"Alright, Mrs. O'Leary, I think he's had enough."

The dog looked at him mid-lick then huffed and jumped off the bed to stand by Percy.

Percy laughed. "Why are you still sleeping, kiddo? Don't you want breakfast?"

"I had a nightmare last night…" Tyson said in a small voice.

_Uh-oh_, Percy thought. He climbed up onto the bunk and sat next to his brother, wrapping his arm around his shoulders comfortingly. "What was it about?'

"It was about mom and dad."

He felt the blood leave his face as memories cam flooding back. He hasn't thought about his parents in a while, so a feeling of queasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. "And…?" he asked timidly.

"It started with Dad on a boat, during a storm. There was lightning and thunder and these huge waves." He paused. "The people on the boat were trying to get all the water off of the deck and fixing the sales. Lightning shot from the sky and hit the boat. Then everything went black." Tyson's eye was misty and he shivered.

Percy hugged his brother reassuringly. "And—and what about Mom?" To be honest, he was scared to know the answer.

"She was locked up in a dungeon. Then someone came to open her cell and lead her upstairs. She was sent to work in the kitchen. And whenever she—," he stopped here and swallowed. "Whenever she did something wrong, she would get hit by this awful lady." The kid looked ready to break into tears.

Percy felt the same, but he forced his expression to stay passive; for the boy's sake. "It was just a dream, Ty."

Tyson was sobbing quietly. No tears actually flowed, but his shoulders shook, as if he was crying. "I miss her."

Percy shut his eyes tight. "Me too."

A sniffle came from the younger boy. "Do you think we'll see her again, Percy?"

He stroked Tyson's hair. "I'm not sure. But, there is always a chance."

Tyson nodded. A silence engulfed them for awhile. Then Percy nudged his brother gently. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

They both jumped from the bed and exited out of the room, with Mrs. O'Leary. The rest of the morning went on, but Percy didn't. He was still thinking about Tyson. He was concerned for him. Those dreams had been happening more and more often lately. And Percy would be lying if he said he has never had those dreams before.

But right now was not the time to dwell on it. Now, he needed to make a trip to the town and give the town their money.

* * *

Somewhere in California, Annabeth Chase unlocked the door to her small apartment. She stepped into her bland home, sighed and set the groceries on the floor. She unwrapped the scarf from her neck and put it on the hat rack that lied to the left of the door. Her gray eyes studied her home as if she's never seen it before. But that was because she wasn't used to the move yet.

She sighed and called, "Dad! I'm home!"

Mr. Chase's voice came from down the hall on the left. "I'm in my study, darling."

Annabeth smiled and walked in the direction of her father's voice. She walked into a small room and ducked. A paper airplane zipped past her head. Laughing came from her father. Like her, her dad had curly, sandy-blond hair, but it was being matted down by a pilot's leather cap and goggles. His intense brown eyes looked foggy in the goggles.

"Sorry dear," he said heartily, "didn't see you there."

Annabeth smiled warmly. "It's okay, dad." She looked at his desk. Papers, books and little figurines were scattered everywhere. "What are you working on?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I've been doing research on the World War. I'm using these figurines to try and replicate it."

She nodded and switched topics before he started rambling. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Oh, you work too hard. Why don't you let me cook it for once?"

"I don't know, Dad," she said uncertainly, rubbing her forearm. "Are you sure?"

A steely glint gleamed in his eyes and he rolled his wheelchair out from under the desk. "Annabeth, I may be a cripple, but I am _not _useless. I can still do things, you know? You can't always look after me."

Annabeth sighed and sat down in the chair next to the door. She didn't mind that she was sitting on a copy of a Dictionary. "I know, Dad. But I can't just sit there and watch you do all the work. I'm old enough to help."

Mr. Chase rolled up to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know you want to help, but you aren't helping anyone if you work yourself to death."

It was her hard for her to let it go, but she did. She put on a fake smile and said, "So, what's for dinner, Dad?"

He stroked his whiskery chin. "How about lasagna?" he proposed.

She laughed. "I've always loved your cooking."

"So, lasagna it is?"

"Lasagna, it is," she confirmed.

He clapped his hands together. "Alright. Let's go to the kitchen and get it started."  
She walked out of the room first and went to the kitchen, with her father right behind her.

They spent the rest of the hour, laughing, talking, and having fun. Mr. Chase tried to impress his daughter by sculpting a face out of the vegetables. And, to Annabeth's surprise, it actually looked like a very good sculpture of Johnny Depp.

"Wow," Annabeth muttered, amazed. "That's a very good Johnny Depp."

"Johnny Depp?" he huffed. "It was supposed to look like that other guy, Orlando Bloom."

Annabeth tilted her head and started laughing. "Oops, my mistake. That is definitely Orlando Bloom."

He nudged her good-naturedly. "You're lying through your teeth."

"Okay, maybe I am. But I really am impressed."

"You are?"

She nodded. "Of course."

Mr. Chase smiled lovingly at his daughter. "You remind me so much of your mother."

She looked down sadly. "You've told me that before."

"I know. But I just can't get over it." He studied her face. "You know, the only thing you got from me was the blond hair. You got your mother's beauty, wisdom, eyes and personality."

Annabeth blushed. "Thanks, Dad. But, I got loads of things from you too, I'm sure."

"Really? Like what?"

"I got your brains and creativeness. And your good looks, and your love for history and architecture."

"Now, you sound like your bragging," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, I think the lasagna's done cooking."

Her father rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "Good, 'cause I'm starving."

After they were finished eating, they cleaned up, and got ready for bed.

"Don't forget your medication," she reminded her father.

"I won't, honey," he said as he put the last plate in dishwasher.

"Okay, good night, Dad." She backed down the hall and slipped into her room.

Mr. Chase sighed. "Good night, sweetheart." He placed his hands on the cool metal of his wheelchair and frowned as another throb pained in his head. He didn't know what it was because it didn't feel like a headache and it has been there all day. He just shook it off as a small headache and took his medication before heading off to bed.

In her room, Annabeth curled in her comforter and turned her reading light on. She fell asleep with a book on her head, and the light enlightening her room. Her dreams were filled with memories of when her parents and she were on a picnic in a field. She smiled in her sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Annabeth woke up in the middle of night, with a parched throat. She smacked her chapped lips together and removed her blanket from on top of her. She made her way to the kitchen to get some tap-water.

She drowsily walked into the kitchen and turned the sink on. The sound of running water awakened her senses. She brought her glass up to the cool water and shivered when it dripped down her hand. A cold chill was in the air and she felt as if something bad was going to happen. But she just shook it off and took a sip.

She turned around and almost dropped her cup in surprise when she saw her dad. "Hi, Dad. What are you doing up?"

Mr. Chase sighed and rubbed his temples with two fingers. "Oh, I just came to get some Tylenol. I've had this nasty headache all day."

She gazed at him, concerned. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Her father gave her a pointed look. "I am very capable of taking care of myself. Remember our little talk earlier?"

"Yes, Dad, I remember."

"Good," he glanced at the clock on the microwave. "Now, off to bed you go."

She nodded, her eyes beginning to fall slightly. But she was awake enough to give him a hug and kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

He hugged her then let go. "I love you too, Annabeth."

His daughter smiled and shuffled back to her room, falling into another deep sleep.

* * *

When she woke up the sunlight streamed through her somewhat ajar windows. She propped herself with her elbows and rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. With a great yawn, she stood up with wobbly knees and closed her door shut. She got dressed in her favorite gray fur jacket, green t-shirt and tan shorts. She pulled on some tennis shoes and walked out the door.

It seemed like a normal morning, until she stepped into the kitchen. Her dad's wheelchair was in the middle of the kitchen, with no owner.

Annabeth gasped and frantically searched. _Where is he? Is he okay? Did something happen? _she thought hysterically. She finally found behind the counter with the sink. He was lying on his side, his face toward the opposite direction of her.

She quickly crouched down and turned him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open slightly. _Okay,_ she thought, _think rationally. Maybe he just fell asleep on the floor, because he was so tired. Yeah, that's it._

Smiling in relief, she shook her father's shoulder and called his name. When that didn't work, she pinched his cheeks, since that seemed to be his most ticklish spot. But not even that worked and she knew something was way wrong.

Hurriedly, she felt his wrist for a pulse, while also feeling his neck. There _was_ a pulse. But it was very light.

"Don't worry, Dad. We'll get you help," she spoke as she reached for the home phone on the counter. She dialed the number. 911.

A voice was heard through the other line. "911, please state your emergency."

"It's my father. I woke up and I just found him on the floor. He's a cripple and so he wasn't on his chair. Now, his pulse is slowly thinning!" Annabeth rambled quickly.

"Please stay calm, Miss. We'll send in an ambulance."

She sighed shakily. "Hurry. Please."

After that she hung up and lay back down next to her dad. She hung onto his hand as if it were a lifeline. So hard, her knuckles turned white, but she didn't care. Right now, in the world, the only thing that mattered to her was her Dad's health.

A few minutes later (though it felt like an eternity to Annabeth), policemen and medical assistants barged into her home. It took a lot for them to pry her away from her father. Men picked him up, and took him outside to lay him on a gurney. Annabeth followed after she grabbed the wheelchair. She was very much in shock. Every movement around her went in slow motion as she watched them load her father, who now had tubes in him and a breathing mask around his nose and mouth, into the ambulance.

She just barely heard a policeman asking her if she wanted to go in with them. Annabeth nodded, not trusting her voice, and climbed into the vehicle to sit next to her dad.

There, she continued to grip his hand firmly, ignoring the words of the medical men. All she could pay attention to was the sight of her father. Practically dieing. Only one thought danced in her mind. _Not again._

* * *

Back in New York, Percy and his cousins were walking through town. Nico, Percy, Thalia, and Jason had left Reyna in charge back at base so they could travel to their good friend's home. Everyone called her Mother Hestia. She acted as though everyone were her child, which Percy loved.

Hestia was the town's main chef. Every Friday night, she would call in the town for free food, since she always claimed she had too much of. And to Percy's group, she was their trader. They would give her some of the money they stole for foods and refreshments. Today was one of their trading days.

It took thirty minutes to get to town. There, they headed to an average looking house. Just another regular house in the suburbs. The smell of freshly baked cookies drifted through the open window, and a pie was cooling off on the windowsill.

Percy smiled. If he could live a normal life, in a normal house, he would love to live here. The small town seemed to be the only place that hasn't been affected by the _Lord's_ reign. Sure, their budget and money lowered, but that didn't stop their high spirits. Even though the people in the town were extremely poor, they were happy. And Percy respected that.

They all approached the house. When they got to the door, they knocked four times. Four times because they were telling her how many there were. If Percy knocked two times, that meant that two people were at the door. But since there are four of them, he knocked four times.

A middle-aged woman with soft hazel eyes and graying red hair opened the door. An apron was tied around her waist and her hair was in a messy bun. She addressed them with a warm smile. "Tanya, Jacob, Nicolas, and Peter! How nice of you to drop by."

The fake names were just in case. Usually, there were policemen patrolling and cameras on the street lights that were always watching. Hestia knew their_ real_ names, of course. She was only being cautious.

Hestia ushered them into her house and gave each of them hug. She held Percy at arm's length and studied his face. "Oh, Percy! You haven't changed a bit since I last saw you."

"We've only seen each other two months ago, Hestia. I don't think I can just drastically change in two months," Percy laughed.

"Oh, pish-posh. You'd be surprised how much can change in a person in just a _day_." She hurried to the kitchen and came back with a plate of cookies and cold milk. "Here, help yourselves."

Nico happily obliged. He grabbed a cookie and flopped onto the nearest couch, sighing in content. Thalia grabbed a couple cookies herself and pushed Nico off before sitting in that spot. Jason sat with his feet in his sister's lap and laughed as Nico stood up, grumbling about stupid cousins and sat in an armchair. Percy just stood, giving his cousins a weird look. After sighing in exasperation, Percy turned back to Hestia, who was wiping her coffee table with some Lysol wipes.

"We're here to make another trade," he explained.

"Oh, it's trading day already?" she asked, still wiping imaginary dirt on the table.

"Yeah," Thalia said. "We would've come yesterday, when we were giving money to the town, but there were a bunch of stupid policemen around. We just barely got by them."

Hestia waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, that's alright. It gave me more time to bake some more food."

Nico cheered. "Yay! I love your homemade cereal."

Percy shrugged helplessly. "Why are you so obsessed with cereal?"

Nico crinkled his nose. "All my grandmother used to talk about was cereal. I guess I got stuck with it." He bit into his cookie, crumbs fell onto his chin.

"Oh, Nico, please don't make a big mess," implored Hestia. "I just cleaned yesterday."

"Yeah, Death Breath," teased Thalia.

"Hestia," Jason said, "You probably clean everyday."

Hestia put on a thoughtful look then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Percy laughed and helped himself to a cookie and a glass of milk. "Anyway, we have like, three-hundred dollars left, since we gave the rest to the town…"

Mother Hestia smiled. "You kids are so generous. Risking your lives to help this town…"  
"It's really no problem."  
"Oh, but it is. What you're doing is dangerous. Everyday, I hear more and more rumors about what they'll do when they catch you, about the big reward for your head. One day, someone of the town might get greedy, though it is very unlikely after all you've done for us, and they'll turn you in for the reward."

"We can only hope that doesn't happen," Jason said.

She smiled. "Yes. Hope is a very powerful thing. Don't ever lose hope."

"We won't."

"Good, now, let's start trading, hmm?"

* * *

Annabeth held her head in her hands as she sat on the uncomfortable hospital chair. Right now she was waiting for the doctor's response. She wasn't aware of how long she's been sitting there impatiently, but she figured it was pretty long since her rear felt bruised. She had gotten up only when her father switched rooms. He began in a small check-up room to a surgery room in less than ten minutes. The doctors kept to themselves on what the whole thing was about. And she was about to burst in anxiety. Exceedingly tired of sitting, she began to pace the empty hallway.

After minutes of pacing, the door clicked open and out stepped Doctor Field. His expression held sadness and sympathy. In his hand was a clipboard filled with papers regarding her father's medical history.

Before he could utter a single word, she began her ramble. "What happened? Is he going to be alright? What was wrong with him? Please, tell me—"

Dr. Field raised a silencing hand and gestured for her to take a seat. Without thinking about her sore bum, she sat down in her former chair, anticipating bad news. The doctor sighed and looked her right in the eyes. "I'm not going to lie to you. It doesn't look too good." Annabeth inhaled a sharp breath. She did _not _like the sound of that. Her mind raced with the different possibilities. "Your father has a tumor growing in the back of his brain. And it seems like a couple hours ago, a blood vessel burst in his head; aneurism. He is lucky it hasn't killed him."

_Brain cancer…Dad has brain cancer and had an aneurism. Oh, dear God. _She clutched her head. "And…can he be—?"

"I am not sure," he sighed. "It is hard to tell considering that the tumor is growing."

"Well, can you shrink it or something?" she asked desperately.

The doctor frowned deeply. "There is more bad news, I'm sorry to say. We do not have the right equipment. In order to help him, we will have to transport him off to New York immediately."

Her jaw dropped. "N-New York? We have to go all the way there?"

"It is necessary and the probably the smartest decision. Is this a problem?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No. I'll do anything for my dad."

He nodded. "Alright, then. Since we cannot help your father medically, we will pay for your move. You'll be on the next top New York tomorrow. I suggest you pack yours and your father's stuff as soon as you get home."

Annabeth nodded stiffly. "I'll come back as soon as I'm finished, for the flight." Looks like she was taking an early vacation, and her dad was going to be ill through it all.

**Review please! Shoutout to Mady S. You owe me twenty more dollars, chick-a-dee!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The door to Mr. Chase's apartment opened slowly and Annabeth sulked in. Without looking up from the ground, she trudged to the closet that separated her and her father's rooms. Inside, two suitcases were buried under thrown-aside jackets and coats. The maroon one belonged to Mr. Chase and the forest-green one was hers. They were covered in dust and worn by the sands of time. She knew they weren't much, but they would have to do.

Dragging the suitcases behind her, after she shook all of the cobwebs off in a shudder, of course, she took a left to her room. _Just take what's necessary, _she reminded herself. _Whatever you don't bring, you'll see when you come back. _At least, she hoped she would.

Her door was already opened from when she left earlier. Annabeth left her dad's suitcase beside the door and sat on the edge of her bed. Carrying her grey eyes along her room, she heaved a big sigh. What to bring? _Let's start with the clothes, _she decided. She stood up and opened the drawer next to the small desk. The past years had been hard on her family, thanks to a sudden change in rule.

Over the years, they've been losing and losing money. Taxes had increased ten-fold and so has the prices for everything. Plus, new laws were made. It's been really tough on them; and probably everyone else in America. Annabeth had to work day and night for money to support their needs, but it was never enough. She had to drop out of her senior year to take care of her dad. And lately, she's been feeling like giving up. But she couldn't have left her dad alone in this.

She rummaged through the drawer, taking out the necessities and folding them neatly in the green case. She wasn't a clean-freak, but she needed as much space as she possibly could. After that, she searched her desk for anything important. Annabeth hesitated at seeing her old sketch-book. She flipped through the pages, smiling at all the blueprints she had tried to make when she was younger. It was always her life dream to become an architect. After her mother died, nine years ago, so when she was about ten, she had wished to become an architect and create something permanent. Something that would outlast anyone or anything.

But that was just a wish; and she'd realized as she grew older, that wishing upon a star got you nowhere. It all depended on how you lived and acted. After a moment, she reluctantly placed the book under her clothes. She zipped up the suitcase and walked out of her room and into her dad's.

Mr. Chase's room wasn't much: just a bed and a dresser. The bed was originally meant for two people, but it was only her dad now. The dresser looked a little lonely, being the only thing in there besides a bed. Quickly, she threw in some of his clothes and left. She headed for the study.

Inside, it was in the same messy condition it had been in yesterday evening. Annabeth wondered what she was going to find in here. So, she just shoved papers that looked important into the suitcase, along with the leather binder he loved. Maybe he would like to see it. She never knew what was in it, but whenever she found him looking at it, there was a smile on his face.

As she stood up to leave, something caught her eye. On the floor in front of her was a silver-chained necklace. The pendant on it was in the shape of a wide-eyed owl with shiny, grey-jeweled eyes. With twitchy fingers, she reached down and picked up the owl gingerly.

It stared at her with a steadfast and intimidating gaze, as if it knew all her secrets. That's when she knew it was her mother's. She brushed her thumb along it and felt a small indentation on the side. Crinkling her nose in thought, she pried her two thumbnails into the small grove and opened it. Two pictures were on either half of the split owl. One was a portrait of her smiling mother, Athena Chase. Her dark hair was braided over one shoulder and her grey eyes pierced hers. On the other side was one of her father. He had his cheesy smile on his face and his ridiculous, old-fashioned, pilot goggles resting on his head like sunglasses. Annabeth remembered how her mom would always get mad at him whenever he wore them in public. She had always said it made him look like a crazed fruit fly. And he used to never take them off just to annoy her.

But ever since her mom drowned in that boat accident, her dad almost never wore them...

She shook her head sternly, _Stop thinking about it, Annabeth. _Without another thought, she tied the necklace around her neck and walked out of the room, with the suitcases in her hands.

Before she walked out of the front door, she took a good, long look around at her dull home. She didn't pack much, but it already seemed so empty. She hated to leave it, but she had no choice. It was either move or let her dad continue to be untreated. But, still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was never coming back…

* * *

Percy trailed down the coastline of Montauk's beach twirling a ball-point pen with his fingers. He stared at the glistening water, deep in thought. Something was nagging at the back of his mind ever since they had left Hestia's. Before they left, Hestia pulled Percy aside to talk to him.

"Percy," she had said, "I need to tell you something important."

"What is it, Hestia?"

"Yesterday, when I was at the markets, I heard someone say that Old Man Octavian was working secretly with the police. They said he was undercover and looking for the Half-Bloods."

Percy scowled. He never trusted the old-coot. Octavian always acted as supercilious and Pure-Blood-like. Whenever he was close to him, he could feel the man's beady eyes drilling holes into his back like lasers. So, he had told Hestia: "Can you keep a close eye on him, and contact us if anything weird happens, please? The last thing we need is policemen knocking at our door."

"I can do that. Just be more careful around him from now on, okay?"

That was probably an hour ago. And it's been on his mind ever since. He couldn't allow anyone, like Octavian, bring his family to prison; because, that is what would happen if they were caught. He knew that prison would eventually lead to their death. And he was _not ever_ going to let that happen. It's his responsibility to protect them as their leader. He had vowed to never let anything bad happen to his family.

Behind him, he heard someone calling his name. He turned to see Travis being chased by Katie. Travis was looking at Percy in hope that he would call her off. But Percy just laughed and waved. He didn't know what the Stoll has done this time, but he knew it wasn't good considering how livid Katie looked. This was normal around here.

Since they were buried deep inside the forest, where no one came to, they had the freedom to run around. They didn't have to always be on watch for policemen, because they were too afraid of the forest. To get people to stay away, Percy and the others had spread rumors about people-eating monsters (named Mrs. O'Leary) and strange disappearances. Technically, they had the whole forest and beach to themselves.

Behind the cabin was the spa-room (as they called it) which held the showers and baths. When Leo was making the blueprints for the cabin, he forgot to draw in the bathrooms, so he just built the spa-room. It was actually very cool. After you walked inside the room, there were two hallways. The one to the left led to the boys' showers and the one on the right was girls'. In the middle of the rooms was a hot-tub-like spring. It was Tyson's idea. Surrounding the springs were the showers and at the very end were the stalls for the toilets.

Farther into the forest were the stables, which held the horses, obviously. And somewhere even farther was Bunker 9: Leo's 'man-cave,' as he liked to call it. It's where Leo did all his blacksmithing stuff. At the edge of the forest, where the sand met the dirt, was Katie's fruit and vegetable garden. She always loved gardening.

Percy strode in the direction of the stables and put the pen in his pocket. He was going to ride to clear his mind. It always did. Halfway through the walk, he saw a raven-black stallion grazing on a blueberry bush. Sighing, he walked over to it haphazardly and patted its sturdy neck. "Hey, boy, why do you keep busting out of your stable?"

The horse gave him an incredulous glance as if to say, _What did 'ya expect? You can't tie this horse down._

"Blackjack, what if someone saw you? They could've taken you or try looking for the owner or…" he stopped himself. He was starting to sound like a parent scolding their child. "Nevermind." Percy heaved himself onto his horse's back, not caring about needing a saddle; he was used to riding without one. "Come on, boy, let's go." Blackjack whinnied and galloped through the forest, without a destination.

Percy rode mindlessly for hours. A few stars even made themselves visible. But he soon came to a part of the forest that he's never been to before. This was weird considering he knew the forest like the back of his hand. He slowed Blackjack down to a trot and scrutinized his location. It didn't feel familiar; maybe it was because they had ridden so far away from the cabin. Ice ran down his spine when he heard the voices. They were coming straight ahead. He hopped off of his steed and told him to stay. Getting closer, he was able to make out a small fire with smoke rising into the sky.

Hiding behind a wide tree, he peaked over and hated what he saw. Tree men were sitting by the fire, laughing loudly and drinking alcohol from glass bottles. They each wore clothes like hunters and rifles were lying beside them. A large tent that looked big enough to fit six people lay behind them. Four horses were tied by their reins to trees. Percy listened intently on the men's conversation.

"So, Jeff," began a man with slick black hair, "how much money do you think we'll get?"

The man to his left—Jeff, snorted, "I don't care. I'm fine as long as it's enough for that wet-bar we want to install in our basement." Percy grimaced. _Pure-Bloods. _ That's what they are; Pure-Bloods just looking for a way to get even more money. Jeff turned to the man on his left, a guy with curly blond hair. "How 'bout you, Rudy? What're you planning on using the money on?"

Rudy took a swig of his beer. "Don't got a clue. Maybe I'll add that in-door pool Tracie's had her eye on."

The first man grunted. "Where's Eddy? That no-good runt's been out gettin' that firewood for a while."

Percy froze. There was another one around here? Well, it makes sense since there were four horses. Just then, he heard a gasp behind him. He swiveled around to see a boy about fifteen with a bunch of firewood in his arms. The boy—who he guessed was Eddy—opened his mouth to speak or yell. Most likely the latter. But, before he could, Percy clamped his hand firmly to his mouth and brought his index finger to his own lips, using the universal sign of 'be quiet.' Eddy's brown eyes were wide and full of fear, although he tried not to show it.

He dragged the boy away from the campsite and the men. When he was sure they wouldn't be heard, he stared intently at Eddy. "I'm going to let go now. Do not scream. Okay?"

Eddy nodded and he let go. "What do you want with me?" He tried to push down the quiver in his voice, but Percy heard it anyway.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"Who are you?" He looked at him dubiously.

Percy waved his hand, signaling that it wasn't important. "It doesn't matter. Now, who are _you_? What business do you have being in this forest?"

"I-I'm Eddy Golbot. My Dad and his friends are on a hunt."

"For what?"

"Some man named Percy Jackson. Dad said he was worth a lot of money."

Percy looked down in thought. _The game just got a lot more interesting. _"And you want to find him, so you can turn him in. Do you know what's in this forest?"

Eddy swallowed. "Yes, sir, I do. I tried to tell them it was dangerous. But they never listen to me."

"Listen; when the others are asleep, I want you to pack all of your stuff. Make sure you don't wake them, though."

"Why?"

"Just do it; it's very important. And don't tell anyone you've seen me."

Eddy nodded. "I won't."

Percy smiled. "Good." He called for Blackjack and mounted. With one last look at the confused eddy, Percy rode off, back to the cabin. He needed to warn the others.

* * *

After Percy left, Eddy breathed out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. He would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. And he was smart enough to guess who that mystery man was. Percy Jackson, the same man his dad was after.

Right now, his brain was arguing with itself. He couldn't decide whether to tell his dad or not. Most of him thought wanted to listen to Percy, but the rest of him didn't. He wanted to prove to his dad that he wasn't such a screw-up and that he was smarter than what they gave him for. But then again, he didn't like what they were doing. He thought it was wrong to sell a man for money, even if it _was _for a lot of money.

"Eddy!" The sound of his dad's voice interrupted his train-of-thought. "Where are ya'?"

"Coming!" he responded. He gripped his firewood and walked back to camp.

"Where've you been, boy?" Mike, his father, asked.

"I got lost," Eddy lied easily.

His dad's friend, Jeff, scoffed. "I knew it. Kid's got bad navigation."

Eddy ignored the comment and stared at his father as he spit into the fire. "I'm sorry, Dad."

Mike snorted. "You better be. You've been gone so long; we don't even need that kindling no more."

"Why?"

"'Cause we have to get our shut-eye, kid!" called Rudy from inside the tent.

His father stood up and stretched. "Right. Eddy, clean the campsite up; we don't want any critters or bears sniffing around here. We'll leave first thing in the morning and be richer by the sunset!" His friends cheered.

Eddy nodded in thought. This was the perfect chance. "I'll clean the campsite real good, Dad, trust me."

Mike gave him a suspicious look, before shrugging and shying into the tent.

* * *

"Wait—you want us to do what?" questioned Thalia.

"I need some of you to come with me and help get rid of some Pure-Bloods camping in the forest," Percy explained for the umpteenth time.

"Pure-Bloods in the forest?" Jason mumbled. "That's definitely not good."

"Yeah. And to make it worse; they're looking for us." Percy got quite a few reactions to that.

"I say we wait for them and pummel them when they arrive!" Clarisse 'helpfully' suggested.

"We can't just beat them up," reprimanded Reyna. "They'll just tell everyone what happened and that our location is here."

"She's right," Will said. "We have to find another way to execute them."

"Execute?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "You want to _kill_ them?"

"That's always an option," Clarisse shrugged.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa_!" Percy raised his hands. This was getting way out of hand fast. "Killing is too far. We can't just kill them. People would get suspicious and go looking for them."

"We can always make it look like they were attacked by bears," Chris thought.

"No! Killing is _too _far. I don't want us to turn into cold-hearted murderers. I won't have us stoop that low."

The Half-Bloods who were seriously considering killing bowed their heads. Everyone except Clarisse, though, that was expected.

Piper rested her hand on his shoulder. "We're sorry, Perce. We'll think of a different way to get rid of them." Percy nodded.

Travis clamped his hands together with a grin. "We could maybe…_scare_ them away."

Connor laughed menacingly. "Ha, you read my mind, brother. Which prank should we use—the skunk-bombs, or the atomic wasp stings?"

Katie widened her eyes. "_Atomic wasp stings_? Are you serious? You've got to be joking."

"Do we have to be so extreme?" whined Grover. "Can't we just—I don't know—knock them out or something and take them back to the city?"

Reyna waved off the idea. "They would just come back, trying to find out who knocked them out."

He nodded. "Good point."

"So, we're going with the Stolls' plan, then?" Thalia deadpanned. Travis and Connor crossed their fingers.

Percy nodded. "Looks like it."

The Stolls fist-pumped and high-fived. Travis threw an arm over his little brother's shoulders. "Yes! Okay, bro, go get the prank book. We've got some mighty planning in front of us!"

"I'm going to regret this," Percy mumbled.

* * *

Eddy sighed as he tied the last bag to the horse's saddle. It was only minutes to midnight and a small breeze wafted through the trees' leaves. Inside the tent, snoring could be heard. He wondered when Percy Jackson would show up. He had packed everything like Percy told him to, except for the tent, of course. If he had taken the tent down, Mike and the others would wake up.

He tried not to feel bad. He was technically helping the enemy; the man who stole money from people he knew. The man who was said to be very dangerous. The same man his dad wanted to sell for money. Oh, will he ever earn his dad's love?

_Probably not, _he thought rancorously. _He doesn't love anyone or anything except money and whisky._

Shuffling was heard in the underbrush. Eddy scrambled to hide behind a tree, hands clammy with anticipation. He watched anxiously at the campsite and jumped suddenly when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He spun around, legs tensed in case he had to bolt.

Standing behind him, with a finger to his lips was a boy with blue eyes and blond hair. "Quiet, we don't want to wake them." The boy gestured to the tent. "Are you Eddy?"

Eddy nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Good, I'm Jason."

"Are you here with Percy Jackson?" Eddy risked asking.

Jason nodded. "Yeah. Come on; I'll take you to him."

Eddy followed Jason somewhere farther into the forest. There, he saw a group of people whispering and pacing. He saw Percy talking to a girl with dark hair and eyes. He noted that everyone, including Jason, was wearing a black cloak around their shoulders. It was hard to see that in the pitch black of midnight.

Percy noticed Eddy and smiled hospitably. "Eddy, great to see you again."

"You too," he spoke softly.

"So, did you pack everything up?"

"Yep, but I still don't know why you asked me to do that."

The wanted man opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when a short Latino boy with a crazy grin and mock-salute walked up to them. "The projector and fog machine are in position."

"Cool," Percy said, "tell everyone to get ready."

"Ready for what?" Eddy asked when the boy left. He was beginning to get frustrated.

"We're going to scare you're old man and his friends away," Jason assisted.

"What? Why?"

"Because you are considered a threat," the girl Percy had been talking to earlier answered. "You could give out our location if you find it."

"So, why are you telling _me _this? Aren't you afraid that I'll run my mouth?"

"I know you won't tell anyone about us."

He crossed his arms. "What makes you so sure?"

Percy shot the girl a look. "Listen, Eddy, we'll talk more about the matter after we're done, okay?"

Eddy nodded his head reluctantly. "You aren't going to hurt them, are you?"

Jason waved his hand. "Nah, we'll just give them a good enough scare to make sure they don't come back."

"How are you going to scare them?"

Percy laughed. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"Nico!" Jason called quietly.

A kid with half his face hidden from the hood of the cloak and a wicked sharp scythe in his hands came up to them. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah." Percy called for the others. "Everyone, get ready," he commanded.

Jason told Eddy to watch and try not to be seen. Eddy walked with them to the campsite, observing wearily. From the distance, a loud, booming sound echoed through the forest. It sounded suspiciously like a gunshot.

Inside the tent, scuffling was heard and suddenly, the three men scrambled out of it with confused expressions. While they were scurrying out, fog had surrounded the ground. The three men looked on, confused.

"It's spring!" Rudy sputtered, gobsmacked. "How is there _fog_?"

"Nevermind the cursed fog!" shouted Mike. "Where did that gunshot come from?"

Mike scrunched his nose. "Something ain't right…"

The fog separated in front of them and out stepped the kid with the scythe—Nico. He looked menacing, with his scythe out in front of him and an impassive expression on his face. The men gazed at him with wonder and anger.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" Mike spat.

Nico remained silent, regarding them from under his hood.

Jeff scowled. "Well? Aren't you gonna say something; or are you going to just stand there?"

"You have trespassed onto sacred ground. You must face the consequences." Nico slowly brought up his blade so that the moon mirrored off it.

Rudy actually laughed. "Ha! Who are you—the Grim Reaper?"

Nico smirked. "Well, aren't you clever."

The men flinched at the sarcasm dripping of his words. They seemed very doubtful now. "What do you want?" Mike asked skeptically.

"This forest is home of the dead. The _dead _only, not pathetic excuses for humans like you."

"The dead? You expect me to be—?"

Nico raised his hand, with his fingertips facing up, and other dark figures appeared like ghosts and surrounded the men. Each figure had a weapon drawn and was pointed dangerously close at their faces and throats. Eddy's dad paled a tad and recoiled from the sharp objects. "I am the Ghost King, and those are the tortured souls that had once intruded my forest. We are the things that you should be _very_ afraid of."

Mike shot a fragile glare. "You don't know who you're messing with."

"I know more than you think."

A look of apprehension dawned on his father's face. "The boy…where is he?"

Nico pretended to be inspecting the blade of his scythe. "Well, all I can say is that he'll be a good addition to our dead army."

Jeff snorted. "Don't believe him!"

"Why shouldn't you, Jeff?"

The man faltered. "How do you know my name?"

"I know lots of things." Nico held his weapon out so the edge was pointing at the men. "Now, you must die."

The ground began shaking and almost threw the men off balance, but they held one another upright. Fog was still drifting over the ground, but Eddy could just make out it shaking. A wall of fire erupted from the dirt and lighted a circle around the men's and cloaked figure's feet. He could tell that this was enough to convince them.

Eddy's father crumpled to his knees. "Please! Spare our souls and stop this madness!"

"And why should I do that, swine?" He spoke in such power and intensity, that Eddy could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The other two men groveled with Mike. "Please, kind sir, do not kill us!" Jeff pleaded.

"We'll do anything!" offered Rudy.

"Anything at all?" challenged Nico.

"Yes!"

"You must leave this forest and never _ever _come back." The figures surrounding the men stepped back through the fire and fell back into the trees. Then, the fire disappeared back into the ground.

"Oh, thank you—" Mike's weeping was cut off.

"Do not thank me; for if I ever find you in my forest again…" He dramatically left the sentence hang in the air.

His father visibly paled under Nico's intense gaze and nodded. "We will never come back. But, sir, could you please bring my son back to me? I surely cannot leave without the boy."

Nico hummed in thought. "We will see. If you leave right now, you will see him in the morning. Now," he waved his hands, "away with you!"

The three men scrambled to their feet, thanking Nico profusely, and galloped away on their horses. For a moment, Eddy was urged to run after them, but he knew that he'd be jeopardizing Percy's plan on scaring them off for good.

When his father and his friends were out of hearing range, Nico began to laugh hysterically. "Did you see that? Their faces were _priceless_!"

A girl with black spiky hair laughed along with him and clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew you could do it, _Ghost King_. I knew you were perfect for the part."

"I know—wasn't I awesome? It all just came to me." The boy went into another fit of laughter. "We have to do that again some other time."

Percy stepped out of the underbrush with a large smile. "Hopefully we'll never have to do that again."

A dark-skinned girl threw her arm around Nico's shoulder. "We won't have to, thanks to Nico."

"But if we _do _have to do that again, I want to be the demon thing!" a boy with elfish features grinned.

"You can't because _you _are the only one that knows how to work those contraptions," the girl pointed out.

He shrugged. "I could always teach Frank—"

"No!" a shout was heard—probably from the mentioned Frank. "I don't want to be near anything you created."

"Just because of that one time…?"

"Pretty much."

The boy huffed.

"As amusing as this conversation is," Eddy interrupted, "could someone please tell me what's going on?"

Percy looked at him like he had almost forgotten he was here. "What?"

"What was all that? There was fire and the ground was shaking and the fog—"

"Hey, okay, don't lose your head. It was all just special effects. The fire and dirt shaking was just an illusion."

"That was some illusion. How do you know how to do those things?"

"Well, I honestly don't, but Leo does. He's good with machines." He pointed at the elfish kid from before.

"And all of this was set up?"

"Yes, it was. It was from our top pranksters." Percy laughed, pointing to two cloaked figures playing with Nico's scythe.

"So…" the girl with the haughty manner and dark eyes spoke. "What do we do with the Pure-Blood kid?"

The girl with electric blue eyes walked up to them. "I say we keep him."

"We can't," Percy reminded, "Nico said that Eddy will be back at the city in the morning."

"Then what do we do?"

Jason entered the discussion. "We could always use him?"

Eddy eyed him skeptically. "_Use _me? How?"

Percy studied him. "We could use someone on the outside."

"Explain, please."

"If you agree to, you could be like a spy to us. Once a month, you can come to the woods and tell us all about what's been happening. Or warn us if something goes wrong."

The Pure-Blood pondered the proposition. He was very conscious about these people. They were said to be a bunch of cold-hearted, untrustworthy thieves. But now that he's actually met them, he could tell they were just teenagers—like him—wanting to do the right thing. And he, like them, wanted to do the right thing, too.

But if his father found out, he'd be disowned! A traitor to their kind, Mike would say. He could be sent to prison, or worse, death. But, then again, ever since he was little, he'd wanted to go on an adventure like the people in his storybooks did. And who's to say this wouldn't be an adventure?

"I'll do it."

Percy beamed and threw an arm over his shoulder. "Awesome. But, do you promise never to reveal our location? Swear it."

"I swear I'll never reveal your location and betray you."

"Good! Welcome to the team. Let's show you around."

**A/N**

**HEY! That was a long chapter. Thanks for everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed. I appreciate it when you take the time to review for a stranger. Anyway, Happy Super Bowl Day! I'm going Switzerland, so I root for no one. Good luck to both teams.**

** (\_/)**

**(****o x o) REVIEW TO HELP FIND A CURE FOR THIS BUNNY! **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Annabeth sketchily drummed her fingers against the armrest of her seat. It would be a lie if she said she was nervous. She honestly was beyond nervous. Mr. Chase gazed at his daughter, melancholy. He hated seeing her like this. It wasn't like her to be so wound up publicly. She would always hide her anxiety and nerves behind a poker-face.

"Annabeth, dear, calm down; everything will be fine," he urged quietly. There was a woman in the seats in front of them that was sleeping.

"I am perfectly calm." Annabeth stopped tapping and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I _know_ we'll be fine."

"Are you sure? You've been acting a little jittery lately."

She fiddled with her fingers. "I just feel…on edge, because this is the first time I've been away from home since…forever."

"Is that it?"

"Well, it's half of it."

"Then what's the rest?"

Annabeth inhaled deeply. "I just have a really bad feeling, like we're never going to come back home."

Mr. Chase smiled sadly. Honestly, he's been having that feeling too, but he knew better than to confirm her suspicions. "Listen, you have to think positive." She looked at him like he was crazy.

"How can I think positive if you have a chance of dying?"

He sighed and held her hands. "Annabeth, while we are in New York, I want you to live your life to the fullest. Go out, see things, party all night—just have a good time. I know you saved up a lot of cash with your jobs. Don't let my disease take the teenager out of you."

She gaped. "But, Dad! How can I _party_ knowing that you could be _suffering_?"

"Annabeth," he said sternly. "Going to New York could be a second chance for you. There are a lot of opportunities there suitable for you. I'll be in good care at the hospital, so you won't have to worry."

"But what if—"

"No '_buts,_' Annabeth. I appreciate all that you've done since my accident, but my life is not your responsibility. You live for yourself and get out there. Do things memorable and maybe even meet a boy—"

She groaned and shielded her face behind her hands. "Dad!

Mr. Chase laughed at her disquiet. "Just promise me that you won't let me get in the way of your new life."

Annabeth frowned. "You aren't in the way."

"Promise."

"Okay, I promise."

Mr. Chase smiled and leaned back in his seat, accepting the assurance. "Thanks, Annabeth. I love you."

She smiled back feebly. "I love you, too."

* * *

The Chases stepped (or rolled) into their new hotel room. Annabeth flipped the lights on and examined the room. It wasn't much. There were two beds against the wall, a small table, and in the very were two sinks with the necessities. Next to that was the bathroom.

"It was nice of Mr. Field to loan us some hotel money," Mr. Chase noted as he wheeled himself to the table.

Annabeth didn't mention that Dr. Field's generosity most likely came from the fact that his brother had recently died of cancer. "Yeah, it was." She hefted the suitcases over to the bed and propped them up before jumping into its cozy sheets. The flight was a little longer than they expected due to a storm, so it was practically twelve at night. "Wake me up when it's time for your appointment."

Her father rolled to her side. "Alright, dear, but remember our little talk on the plane—okay?"

She rolled over, looking him in the eye. "I'll remember, and I will be a teenager for once, promise, but it's been a long day and I really need to sleep."

They haven't been in New York for very long—they had just come here straight from the airport. But, Annabeth had seen enough to convince herself that she would go sightseeing before the trip was over.

Mr. Chase smiled happily, kissing her forehead. "Of course. Goodnight, Annabeth."

"Night, Dad," she yawned. She fell asleep, listening to the storm raging on outside.

* * *

Thunder shook the room, waking Percy in a cold sweat. He felt like he was falling. The dream he had seemed so lifelike, it scared him. To get his mind off it, he slid out of bed—careful not to hit his head on the top bunk or wake anyone up—and shuffled into the kitchen. Maybe cool water will calm him.

Outside of his room and in the kitchen, he heard a small scratching noise. On the couch, he could make out red hair. _Of course_, he thought.

Momentarily forgetting about his thirst, he headed over to the girl and looked over her shoulder. Rachel was briskly sketching a drawing of an eye. And not just any eye—it looked like an owl eye. He wondered why she was just sketching a single owl eye.

"You're a brilliant artist, Red," he commented, gawping at her drawing.

She didn't even look up. "Thanks, Perce."

He jumped over the couch to sit next her while trying to keep his eyelids up. Mrs. O'Leary, who had been lying on the ground at Rachel's feet, lumbered over and placed her big head on his lap. He absentmindedly stroked behind her ear. "So, why are you awake?"

"Same thing as you, probably—a dream."

"More like a nightmare," he mumbled inaudibly. Then, he smiled and said, "You know me too well."

Rachel rolled her eyes and stuck her pencil into the metal rings of her sketchbook, then threw it onto the coffee table with a sigh. "Should you start, or should I?"

At first, Percy was confused on what she was talking about, but then he realized it was about the dreams. "Oh, you can go first," he volunteered.

"Well," she began, "I'm pretty sure it was a prophetic dream." Percy groaned inwardly. "There was a woman with these weird grey eyes and a little girl, who I presume is her daughter, with the same grey eyes. And, there was lightning and—"

"Can't you just show me what you saw?"

She scowled. "I can predict the future, I'm not a wizard."

"It worked last time."

"And I still don't know how I did that." She pursed her lips thoughtfully and then shrugged. "But, I guess we can give it a try." Rachel expectantly held out her hand.

Without hesitation, Percy reached out and grabbed it. He was suddenly sucked into a memory.

He was standing on a dangerously rocking boat at night. Passengers of the boat were scrambling down to the lower decks, failing at keeping calm. A man ran straight through Percy. "Ugh," Percy shivered. "Watch out, man!"

Rachel laughed next to him. "This is a memory; no one can see or hear you."

"Right, sorry." Percy looked around the boat. Black waves were crashing up the side angrily. The sky was covered in blankets of dark clouds with lightning heatedly flashing behind them. He winced at the all too familiar scene. Continuing his search, he spotted a woman with dark hair and grey eyes dragging a girl with curly blond hair and the same grey eyes. "Is that them?" he pointed.

Rachel nodded sadly. "Yeah…"

Percy watched with more interest. The girl didn't appear to be frightened, though she desperately looked around the deck, as if she was searching for something. Finally, the girl's eyes widened and she tugged on her mom's arm. _"Mom, stop! Mr. Willis is still over there," _she pointed in the direction of Percy.

For a second, he thought she meant him. But that was impossible, because he was invisible to them. So, he figured it was something behind him. He turned around looking for the thing called Mr. Willis.

Mr. Willis turned out to be a stuffed barn owl doll that was currently sitting on a bench attached to the boat.

"_Mom, we can't leave without him!" _the girl continued, constantly pulling her mom's arm.

"_We have to leave, princess," _the mother said soothingly, trying to keep calm. _"The weather isn't suitable at the moment."_

By the way she spoke; Percy guessed that the woman was very educated and wise. She was a caring mother, but took her job very seriously.

"_No, I'm not leaving without him!" _The girl broke free and struggled against the rocking boat to the owl.

"_Annabeth, get back here! It's not safe."_ She groaned and raced to her daughter briskly.

What happened next went by so fast, Percy couldn't begin process it. Lightning flashed, a wave crashed into the boat with a great force that sent the mother and daughter sprawling. The mother had just reached Annabeth when the wave had hit. She stumbled and dropped the girl who rolled and hit her head on the side of the boat. Annabeth lied there, motionless.

Percy stared in horror as the mother lost balance and began falling off the side. He rushed over instinctively, wanting so badly to help. But, when he tried grabbing her hand, it just went right through. With terrified, wide eyes, the woman landed with a _splash_ into the unforgiving waves.

He gasped, trying to look for any signs that she might be alive…but he couldn't see a thing. Suddenly, the sound of propellers filled his ears and he looked up. A helicopter was hovering over the deck, with a dangling ladder. A man climbed down and scooped up the still unconscious Annabeth.

Sympathy and pain welled up in his heart. The girl was going to wake up, wondering where her mother was and having to face the truth that she was never going to see her again. She was too young to have to feel that kind of regret and guilt.

Passengers began coming up, wanting to be rescued. More choppers flew in. And as the last person went up, the only thing left on the boat was the feeling of misery and the stuffed barn owl named Mr. Willis…

The scene began to dissipate like mist and suddenly, he was back in reality with Mrs. O'Leary's head on his lap and Rachel staring into empty space forlornly.

"Wow," he muttered in awe, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "So that's why you were drawing an owl eye—because of that doll. What do you think it means?"

Rachel crinkled her brows together. "I didn't exactly get the message of it all. I just think that the little girl will be important in a way."

"So we have to keep a look out for a kid?"

"With curly blond hair and grey eyes," she confirmed.

"Why would she be important?"

She shrugged helplessly. "No way will I know. Just have to wait and see, I guess."

Percy nodded acceptingly. "When should we tell the others?"

"Um…we shouldn't tell anyone."

He stared at her, confused. "Come again?"

"Well, the last time, Travis and Connor told everyone that I had dreamt of our demise. I don't want them to make a big deal out of this."

"Can I tell my cousins, so they could help keep a lookout?" He couldn't keep secrets from them for long anyways.

"Sure." She smiled at him. "What about yours?"

He scrunched his eyebrows questioningly. "My what?"

"You're dream—what was it?"

"Oh." He swallowed, the veracity of the dream creeping up on him again. "Well, it isn't much compared to yours…"

"Oh, no you don't, mister. I told you mine, so you tell me yours. It's only fair."

"I can't remember most of it anyway."

"Cough it up!"

He chuckled. "Shush, you're going to wake everyone up."

Rachel defiantly crossed her arms, daring him to test her.

Percy sighed, knowing her and her stubbornness. "There was a pilot in an airplane. He had a content smile on his face, like he was enjoying his flight. He stared out of the window and watched the clouds fly by. The man reached up to flip some switch when a blinking light caught his eye. I couldn't see what it was, and when he talked, I heard nothing. But he looked totally nervous. He gripped the wheel and jerked it up.

"He flipped a lot of switches. Outside of his window, I saw the clouds go by really fast. That's when I realized the plane was falling. I could feel everything he was. And eventually, he gave up, brought his hands to his heart and muttered some sort of prayer, I think. Then…"

"He crashed." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not sure, since I woke up right then, but I think that's what happened." Percy leaned back and rubbed his eyes with his fist, trying to get the man's fearful face out of his vision. "It was so real. When I woke up, I felt like I was falling."

"And the plane—did it have passengers?"

He shook his head, not removing his fists from his eyes. "From what I saw, it didn't look like a passenger plane. It was more like a solo one with only the pilot and cargo inside."

Rachel took the time to ponder this. "That is very weird. What did the man look like?"

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question. "He had blond hair and brown eyes; pretty much the average man."

"Blond hair? Like the little girl's?"

"Wait, you don't think the dreams are connected, do you? Because you are supposed to have the prophetic dreams—not me."

She snapped her fingers. "I bet my lucky paintbrush that that man in your dream was the girl's father!"

"What makes you think that?"

"Just a feeling that I have. And you know I am almost never wrong."

"Yes," he muttered, "I know."

"That poor girl—both parents dead."

"Hey," Percy shrugged, rubbing Mrs. O'Leary's snout. "You never know, the parents could've survived."

Rachel shook her head. "No. I know for a fact that the mother in my dream died. There wouldn't have been much of a reason for it, then, if she hadn't."

He was confused, but he said, sarcastically, "Well, aren't you _Sally Sunshine_."

In response, she punched his shoulder with a small smile. "Shut up, this is serious. The little girl could be important."

"Important how?"

"Important as in put-Kronos-out-of-power important." As soon as she said his name, a dark chill ran up and down his spine, like he was being watched. Closely.

"You know I don't like that name."

Rachel frowned sadly and reached for his hand. "Percy, if we find this girl, you may never have to hear that name again."

"What help can a little girl with no parents be?" he asked bitterly.

"What help can a bunch of thieving teenagers be?" she curtly retorted. "Wasn't it your idea to form this group?"

He glared at her half-heartedly. "Yes. I take full responsibility to that."

A frown replaced her playful manner and for a minute, she didn't say a word. "Percy…what's got you so stressed?"

He looked down. "What are you talking about?"

"You can't fool me; I know something's been bothering you. What is it?" Percy pursed his lips. "The weight of the world isn't resting on your shoulders."

"It feels like it," he whispered to himself, but she heard.

"Trust me, it's not. Everyone feels like that every once in a while. It's only a human thing. And don't say I won't understand, because you know that's wrong."

Sighing, he ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I just want everyone to be safe, I guess. I feel like it's my responsibility as leader to keep it that way. Someone around here has to protect you."

"We can protect ourselves just fine, thank you very much. Besides, we're in this together. We all made our commitment and joined of our own free will."

"But still—you guys are my family. I can't lose you."

"And you won't. Remember what Will said a while back? He said if one goes down, we all go down. And if one rises, we all rise."

"Yeah," Percy smiled faintly, "I remember. I'm still trying to figure out where he stole that from."

"You too?" She chuckled dotingly. "Anyway, Percy, half of the people here owe you their lives."

"I don't want them to feel like they owe me anything; they don't."

"Well, some won't admit it, but it's true. We'd be nowhere if you hadn't done anything. And we will do anything to help you. Even risk our lives like you've done for us and the good people out there."

"This is supposed to be reassuring?"

"Just know that we'll always be there to catch you when you fall. Even Clarisse, though she'd most likely drop you afterwards."

"Sounds like her."

"It's her way of appreciation."

He smiled warmly at his friend. "You know, you should be a therapist or something, because I feel a whole lot better."

"I know. I have many talents. But, do you understand what I was talking about?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I do."

"Good." Rachel stood up and snatched her sketchbook off the coffee table. With an overdramatic bow, she said, "Well, it is time for the Fantastic Rachel to take her leave. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Percy stretched out on the couch and yawned. "Okay, bye Red."

She tiptoed back to the girls' room just as Percy's eyes shut close. _I've_ _been sleeping on the couch too much, lately_, was his last thought.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay, guys. Thatt's chapter 4. Honestly, I felt like it was sloppy. :/ Give me your thoughts please!**

**And I'm sorry to say that the bunny died. There weren't enough reviews for the cure, but that's alright, bunnies multiply fast-well, virtual bunnies do. And also, I owe three shoutouts to Maddy S. She'd kill me if I didn't say that. So, thanks for the ideas and everything. Oh yeah, the whole Athena falling off the boat because of a storm was all her idea. If you liked that part, give her a mention in the reviews! Thanks for all my reviewers and viewers and followers and favoriters! Keep at it!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Annabeth had to sit in the uncomfortable hospital chair, _again_. Today, her dad was getting his chemotherapy at their new hospital, and she had to do paperwork. _Yippee_. She scribbled away on the paper on the clipboard, boredom trapping her in its disgusting embrace. She wrote all of Fredrick Chase's medical information. She wrote that he was allergic to pollen and what his blood type was.

Straight across from her sat a boy a bit younger than her with brown eyes and golden-brown hair. He seemed nervous and tapped his foot on the marble floor constantly from his seat. After a few more annoying seconds, she asked, "Nervous?"

The boy startled and looked up at her. His eyes darted left and right, before he decided that yes, she _was _talking to him. "Oh…I am."

"Is a family member injured or sick?" She knew she was getting into someone else's business, but she had to keep the conversation going to make sure he didn't start tapping his foot again.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "You could say that. My dad—the doctor thinks he's mental or something because my dad said he's seen Death."

She raised an eyebrow. "And did he?"

Looking away, he said, "I—I don't know."

Did she believe him? Not really. Was she going press farther? No. "Well, I hope he didn't. What are the doctors going to do to him?"

"Right now they're just giving him a quick examination. But, I'm pretty sure my dad's going to have to see a therapist for the rest of his life." She cracked a smile. "What about you?"

It took a second to register what he meant and the smile fell from her face. "Oh, my father has brain cancer."

The boy took that in silently, murmuring his condolences. She shrugged it off, saying it was fine, not wanting sympathy or pity. "My great grandma died of lung cancer," he sighed.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we were really close. She was a great person, but she was a smoker. And ever since she died, my dad has been addicted to alcohol."

Annabeth didn't say anything. She knew that—like her—he didn't want sympathetic looks or 'I'm sorry's. He smiled in appreciation at her and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Eddy Golbot."

"Annabeth Chase." She reached over and shook his hand.

"Are you new here?"

She raised a surprised eyebrow. "How'd you guess?"

Eddy pointed to the clipboard in her lap. "Well, people only get those kinds of papers if they are new here."

Annabeth appraised his observation. "Yes, I'm new here."

"Where are ya' from? Pennsylvania? New York City?"

"California." She snickered at his bug-eyed expression

"Wow. That's _pretty_ far. Why'd you move?"

"The hospital there couldn't support our situation, so we had to move here temporarily." She scribbled more information on the board.

"Ah, I see. How long have you been here?"

She flipped her pencil with her fingers, contemplating. "Around twenty-four hours."

"Well, let me be the first to welcome you to Manhattan." He smiled.

"Thanks."

The door Eddy was sitting by opened roughly, scaring him, and a man stepped out with a crinkled paper in hand. "Come on, Eddy. We're leaving. Now."

Eddy stood up, careful to avoid his father's raging fists. "What's that, Dad?"

"A slip with a name of a therapist!" he growled. "Come on, boy!"

Eddy gave Annabeth a look that said, _What did I tell you?_ "So, I'll see you around, Annabeth?"

She smiled. "We'll see."

Mr. Golbot and Eddy walked (or stormed) out of the hospital doors. With a sigh, she slouched back in her chair and continued her paperwork. After she finished, she went to the front desk to hand them to the lady who was typing rapidly on the computer—paying her no mind.

Annabeth lazily left the papers on the counter where she knew the lady would find eventually and was about to return to her seat when she remembered a question that she wanted to ask earlier. "Um…excuse me?"

The lady behind the counter ignored her and kept with her typing. Annabeth cleared her throat rather loudly. Finally, she answered without taking her eyes off of the computer screen. "Yes?"

"I have a question… How much are the treatments for brain cancer?"

"Well, it leads up to hundreds and thousands of dollars, and you're insurance should help to an extent."

Annabeth internally sighed. She knew it was going to be expensive, but she wanted an exact amount. "Could you please give me an exact amount or estimation on what the full cost would be?"

The woman put on a thinking face and tapped a pen on her keyboard. "I'd say about $115,000. Give or take."

Annabeth heard a pin drop as the blood rushed from her face. Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the countertop while a sudden sense of dismay washed over and threw her around like a hurricane. Where were they supposed to get that kind of money? They were almost completely broke!

"Miss? Miss, are you okay?" The counter lady stared up at her with a concerned look.

"Yeah. I'm fine… Just great."

"Alright…" With one last doubtful look, she resumed her typing.

* * *

Around an hour later, the Chases were back in the hotel room. Mr. Chase looked real sleepy from his Radiotherapy. And Annabeth hated that she had to put stress on his shoulders, but the question has been burning through her skull for what felt like forever.

"Dad…"

"Hmm?" her father hummed.

"Do you know how much treatments for cancer are?"

"No, honey. Why do you ask?"

Annabeth fiddled with a strand of hair. Did she want to tell him? Would he worry? Would he suddenly have a heart attack? She shook her head exasperatedly. She was thinking crazy thoughts. But…there was always the possibility.

No, she couldn't tell him. The last thing they needed was for him to have that pile of stress loaded onto him. "I've heard that it's gotten cheaper!" Annabeth lied with false cheerfulness.

Her dad smiled tiredly. "That's good news, darling." His mouth widened in a lion-sized yawn. "I think I'm going to take a nap."

She watched ruefully as he rolled himself over to the large hotel bed and relied on the strength of his forearms to pull himself onto the comforter.

"Night, princess. Love you."

She smiled amiably at the pet name. "Night. Love you, too."

* * *

At Bunker 9, Leo, Jason, and Piper were crowding around a large blueprint spread out on a smooth, metal table.

"I think my room should be the biggest," Leo jested. "You know, since I _am_ the captain."

"You aren't Captain yet," Jason reminded.

"And besides, no one ever made you captain, Repair Boy," Piper grinned.

Leo pouted at the nickname. "Fine, I see I won't be getting your vote, Beauty Queen."

"No. If anyone's going to be captain, it'll be Percy."

"Oh," Jason raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, "and how's that?"

"Pft," Leo scoffed. "Please, we all know water is his turf."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Does everyone have a turf?"

"Sure! Mine is fire, because I'm hot. Piper's is beauty, 'cause she's Beauty Queen. Yours is the sky because you think you're so high and mighty—"

Jason frowned. "Nevermind. You don't have to go on."

He shrugged. "Okay, but I have a good one for your sister."

"Watch it Leo…" Jason warned.

"Just kidding." He threw his hands up in surrender. "Now, hand me that blowtorch."

"Whoa," Piper laughed nervously, "okay, fine, you have my vote!"

"Sheesh, Beauty Queen, maybe I should change your name to Drama Queen. I'm not going to hurt anyone, but thanks for the vote!"

"Here," Jason said, handing him the blowtorch.

"Thanks. Come on, I'll show you how she's progressing." Leo skipped out of the lounge area and into the main bunker where a massive, unfinished warship stayed.

"I still don't understand why you decided to build that thing, Leo," Piper said as she gazed the ship up and down. "When will we _ever_ use this?"

"You never know." Leo rummaged through the drawer of a metal desk. "Maybe one day, we'll need a quick getaway."

"And you expect us to _magically _drag this to the ocean?" Jason laughed at the thought of Leo pushing it.

"Magic would be nice, but no. I have a way to bring her to the ocean."

"And it is…?"

Leo ignored this question when he found what he was looking for. It was one of those blowtorch masks. He pulled it over his head and covered his face. "I have to get working, so unless you're going to help me finish, the door is to your left."

"You're going to work yourself to death Leo," Jason said, shaking his head as he headed for the front door. Clearly, he wasn't going to help. Piper followed, saying goodbye to her friend. But Jason suddenly stopped in front of the huge, metal door, looking down at his feet.

"What's wrong, Jason?" Piper scrunched her eyebrows and yet she still looked flawless.

"The ground feels hollow right here…" he mumbled in thought, stepping at the wood floor. It creaked. He stopped, stood at a certain spot, and gave a test jump. The ground shook and creaked when he landed.

Piper went to stand beside her boyfriend, staring curiously at the ground. It definitely felt hollow. "Let's jump together."

"On three," he agreed.

"One…"

"Two…"

"Three!" Together, they bounded into the air. The force was just enough for the floor to give out, opening like a trapdoor, and sending them falling through the air. They landed with a painful grunt, dirt and dust showering them. Luckily for Piper, though, something cushioned her fall—or rather, _someone_.

"Ow," she moaned. "What was _that_?"

"I don't know, Pipes," Jason said. "But what I _do _know is that your elbow is digging into my spleen."

"Oh, sorry." She stood up, blushing, and offered him a hand. He accepted gratefully. She eyed their current location. They were in what seemed to be like a damp cavern, but neither could tell considering it was pitch-black. The only light was emanating from the trapdoor they'd fallen from. "Any idea what we fell into?"

"Nope. I really can't see past the dark."

"Leo!" Piper screamed. Her voice echoed, confirming her suspicion of being in a cave.

Leo's head appeared at the trapdoor a second later, his face covered in grease and the mask gone. His elfish features gaped at the cavern in awe. "Whoa! How'd you find this place?"

"Next time, _warn_ us before letting us fall through a freaking trapdoor," Jason huffed.

"Wait, you think _I_ installed a trapdoor? Dude, I didn't even know there _was _one!"

"Then how'd this get here?"

The Latino boy shrugged, his toothy grin never leaving. "I have no clue, but as long as it's here, we should explore it. Wait here, I'll get some rope and light!"

Piper winced as his cheerful voice echoed off the walls.

Soon, the three of them were walking through the cavern, the light from Leo's _torch _showing the way.

"Leo," Jason sighed, pinching the brim of his nose, "I've got to ask: why did you bring a torch and not a _flashlight_?"

Leo gave him a look that clearly said, _you're kidding, right? _"All of the best explorers bring torches. And besides, I used up all the batteries for that robot squirrel."

Piper laughed, dragging her head along the cold, slimy, wet walls. She felt like she was in one of those movies where the kids stumble upon a treasure map and set off on a crazy adventure to find some kind of treasure. As they traveled down, the ceiling got lower and they had to crouch. "Are we almost there, yet?"

"Do we even know where 'there' is?" Jason questioned, gripping onto Piper's hand. She smiled at him.

"I think we're al—" Leo had run right into a stone wall. The other two thought that was strange considering he had the torch and therefore had the best light to guide him. Piper guessed that he probably wasn't paying close attention to in front of him.

He peeled himself off the wall, rubbing his face with a pout. "Looks like a dead-end." Then, his eyes trekked up at the low ceiling. A small patch of light was shining through a small peephole. "Or, maybe not…" He pressed his face onto the ceiling and looked through. At first, there was a confused frown, but it was replaced by a fascinated smile. "Come look at this; I think we're under the house!"

"What?" Piper asked. "So we've traveled from the bunker to all the way to the house?"

"Yeah, come look. I think we're directly underneath the coffee table."

Sure enough, when she looked through, she could see the legs of the coffee table and the couches around them. Past that, she could just barely see flip-flops—Rachel because she was the only one who wore lime-green flip-flops. "That's creepy," she muttered. Then, in a louder voice, she told Leo, "You better not come in here just to spy on us."

"Please," her friend snorted, "the Stolls and I aren't _that _alike. Besides, my video cameras can do all the spying for me."

"Yeah," Jason started to agree but did a double take. "Wait—didn't Percy tell you to take those down?"

"I _did_," he defended, then mumbled, "I just but new ones in different places…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So what are we going to do with this tunnel?" Piper interrupted.

"Keep it a secret, of course," Leo said just as Jason said: "Tell the others."

Jason turned to gape at Leo. "Keep it a _secret_? Why?"

"Because, if the others found out then there is a higher risk of information being slipped. What if Connor and Travis found out? What if they slip and a Pure-Blood finds out?"

"Those aren't the best reasons, Leo," Piper said.

"Look, it's better if we keep this a secret until the time is right. Trust me." He put on a confident smile and rested his fists on his hips in a hero-like pose.

Jason sighed, but relented. In silence, the three friends turned back to head back to the bunker.

**A/N: Hahaha…uh, miss me? Uh, I'm uber sorry I haven't updated for almost three months. I don't really have an excuse, just a long period of writer's block. At first, I was like "What will I do? If I just do that, then it'll be too short and they won't like that. And if I do that, it'll be too revealing," but then this stroke of genius came to me. Haha, I know, it's not that good—it's just a filler chapter— but it's all I got, so just be patient, please.**

**Um… Oh, yeah! I'm also writing a new original story (look at me and all my originality ;) )and I think it's really good and professional-like. It won't be posted until later, because I want to type the whole story and be finished with it before I put it on here. That way, I don't have to worry about it much and will still have time for my other stories.**

**I feel like this story isn't doing as great as my other. Should I put this on hold? Should I abandon this completely and focus on my other one? Let me know what you think.**

**Review, Favorite, and Follow! Please? Suggestions? Criticism? Ideas? They're my inspiration. Thanks to all who's reviewed and favorite and followed already. You're my heroes.**

**Peace—WTTW **


	6. AN

**A/N: IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!**

**Okay, so here's what's happening with the story. No, no, no, calm down; I'm not at all deleting it or abandoning it. I was afraid that it would come to that, but I'm too stubborn to quit, so you're lucky.**

**Here's what's really gonna happen. I'm gonna rewrite this—well, not technically rewrite it. I'm just going to be improving it by going back to the other chapters and putting them in first person. Third person just got too complicated. I will also be editing some stuff, because I realized I made a few mistakes in the plot, so some things might seem different in later chapters. **

**You don't have to go back and reread the story if you don't want to. The changes I make won't make that much of a difference, but you might get confused in later chapters if you don't read the changes.**

**Also, I wrote a new summary for this: _Percy Jackson, a savior to the Poor and a rebel of the Pure, is one of the most wanted criminals in New York._**

_**Annabeth Chase, a once innocent teen that wanted nothing more than to help her dad, makes a deal with a powerful man. There's a problem, though. This deal could save her father…but it could also end in her new friends' death. But hey, every rose has it thorn.**_

**So let me know what you think about the new summary, please. And also, I NEED A NEW NAME! Sometimes I feel like the title "The Half-Bloods" isn't interesting enough to catch readers' attention. I've tried to come up with a new one, but nothing really comes to mind. If you have ANY ideas, please let me know. There are no bad ideas. Er, except that...haha, just kidding. I appreciate any help. If you do have a great idea, send me a PM or drop a review. And let me know if you think I should just keep it as it is.**

**So, again: I'm not ending this story, just blossoming it so it can rise to its full potential, so just bear with me. **

**Special thanks to Mischief by Moonlight for inspiring me! And to all the other reviewers and favoriters and followers. Thanks! I'll update as fast as I can.**

—**WTTW :)**


	7. Another AN

**Guys, it happened again. **

**All the chapters I've written for my stories so far have been deleted. There were some technical difficulties and I had to restore my device that held everything I write. I had a flash drive to save all my stuff, but because I'm a freaking idiot that can't even remember to feed a goldfish, I lost it. **

**You have no idea how bad I feel about this guys. I'm beating myself over it. It was just—I'm just so sorry, okay? I have horrible luck; how did I not see this coming?**

**And what makes it worse is that it wasn't just the stories I currently have posted that I lost. It was also the stories that I was **_**planning**_** on putting on FanFiction. If you're interested to see what they were you could read my profile. I felt so good about those stories; I had everything planned. Now it'll take me months to remember what I'd written. And it won't nearly be as good as the original. **

**I'm putting my stories on hiatus, obviously. I'm **_**so sorry**_**. I just need time to get them back on their feet. But over time, if I can't get my inspiration and motivation back, I'll delete my account, along with my stories. I'll put up an A/N if it comes to that. I'll give the story three weeks, but after that A/N then it's gone. But that's only if.**

**I'm sure if I do that, I'll eventually come back under a new account. Maybe I might put up the same stories again. I really don't want to give up on The Half-Bloods...**

**Again, I'm forever sorry, but I felt like this day was going to come soon anyway—deleted writings or not.**

**You've been the most patient and sweetest viewers. I won't forget that. I would have never gotten this far without you. Thank you, but I guess I just wasn't meant to be an author. Again, I'm sorry if I disappointed or let you down. I disappoint myself too.**

**Forever Sorry — Word To The Wise**


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